-=Dark_Angel=-, P.I.
replying on Trust by Dovina
31 Oct 2004, 11:39 AM
Avoiding the question, are we?
Care to put your money where your mouth is? Name and shame your wretched 'few'.
Yup. Slow it down a bit, too. Thanky.
Under a hazy Florida sun,
in the median,
three tall birds stand -
underestimating.
Same family at any rate. I looked it up in the dictionary, too bad I didn't have a bird book when it happened, I could be more accurate. I had probs with the comma too. Which is the more rogue? Could I do way with both on the basis of line breaks?
If you're going to post a revision, at least correct the spelling!
The first verse nicley evokes a sad tale coming, except for the rogue comma. I love openings like this.
Is it a heron or an egret? They're about the same, right?
You are right about blahblahlbah.
I wish you would stop ignoring me when I comment on your work. You went off in another direction, this time as before, and did not address what I was trying, in a constructive amnner, to tell you.
Pale is used twice in the 1st stanza. Keep the rose buds. Snow white /pale washes itself out.
The second stanza is just too generic. too many b,l,u,e
words ant too many possible end rhymes to take easy street. Do it again.
S-3 How to emotions swell? You used -unfurled- in the second line. swell or unfurl. pick one.
and your closers are too generic. Find an image that equates this. A horse with blinders on perhaps? A tunnel vision driver? Plenty to choose from.
The poem is not bad, just too much telling. The Blue eyes is particularly good.
If you like this poem, take it apart and rebuild it.
Still you're improving. An unlisted 7.
Are you a) new to english b) attempting to sound smarter than you are or c) all of the above.
You can't have reduplicated prepositions in english that split the object
I like this better, a lot better if only because you've actually tried. You are still struggling with the form.
I tried shaping it up a little. It's a bit better this way I think:
This path I travel down is worn
old leaves are crunched beneath my feet
A newer me would be reborn.
My walk began. I was forlorn
In feeling I was lost and beat.
The path I traveled down was worn
In the late nights I'd look out and mourn-
Look out my window; down my street
A newer me will be reborn.
My heart gets tugged until it's torn
Whose tearing makes me incomplete
This path I travel down is worn.
The night departs, its promise sworn
And I arise for day is fleet.
A newer me will be reborn
With the new day whose newer morn
Readies me for a newer feat.
For this path I travel down is worn.
A newer me must be reborn.
This is the sort of thing you should have left on that sheet of lined paper and never bothered to type. It's quite bad, really. I'm sorry for your loss but it does not make for good poetry or moving reading.
This is the very worst thing you could do for the memory of the dead. You are unwittingly generalizing one more dead person and lumping them in with the rest who have had so many bad poems elegizing their deaths.
This poem, while it may be meaningful to you, is meaningless and laughable to the rest of us. If you can believe it, so many kiddies ask me to read poetry just like this expecting me to praise it. I do exactly what I'm doing now. I tell them this kind of poetry, as common as kleenex and as disposable, is exactly why "young creative writers" classes are a bad idea.
If you really want to do justice to the memory of the dead, focus on what made your friend unique in life, instead of what made your friend another badly rhymed "poem" among the rest of the prematurely dead.